You Call This Fun?
by Sigil
Summary: Aragorn, Legolas, Boromir, and Elrond go out for a night on the town after the Council of Elrond. This is for Cor's fic challenge.


You Call This Fun?  
  
By Sigil  
  
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"I don't know how you talk me into these things, Estel!" Elrond shouted over the noise of the storm.  
  
"Yes, you do, Father." Aragorn shouted back. "You love getting in trouble, just admit it."  
  
Legolas laughed while Boromir stared in confusion. The four of them had decided to take a night out to Bree in order to escape the frenzied planning for the Quest that was soon to follow. Actually, it was just supposed to be Aragorn, Legolas, and Elrond, but Boromir had overheard them and Aragorn felt foolish not asking him as well.  
  
Boromir was looking as if he regretted being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Aragorn noticed, and grinned.  
  
"Come, Boromir, lighten up! We are almost to Bree. You won't have to bear the storm much longer." The man grinned. "You look as though you sat on a mouse!"  
  
Legolas rolled his eyes. "Really, Aragorn, why a mouse? Why not a cat, or a porcupine?"  
  
"I like mice, that's why." Aragorn replied.  
  
"Well, I like cats." Legolas said.  
  
Elrond smiled. "I like porcupines, myself."  
  
________________________________________________________________________  
  
Whatever The Prancing Pony's occupants had been expecting to be blown in by the storm, this certainly wasn't it. The party from Rivendell rushed inside out of the rain, managing to keep the door open long enough to drench all who were foolish enough to have grabbed seats too close.  
  
Legolas and Elrond did not remove their hoods. This didn't help their welcome at all.  
  
Three now soaking wet men barred the quartet's way. "You owe us an apology." One of them growled, squinting up at them.  
  
Aragorn rolled his eyes. "Sorry. Now move."  
  
The largest man rested his hand on his knife. "Say it like you mean it."  
  
Elrond sighed. "So, this is why you never come home in one piece, eh, Estel?" He murmured to his son.  
  
"What'd he say?" The squinty one demanded.  
  
"He was commenting on your lack of manners!" Boromir growled.  
  
Legolas stepped hard on the man's foot, but it was too late.  
  
"No manners, eh?" The large one snorted. "Don't think you should be talking. We just wanted an apology."  
  
"And you got one." Elrond put every ounce of force he had behind the words. "Let us pass." And he shoved past the men. "Come, let's drink." He eyed their opponents. "Perhaps you would like some?"  
  
The silent one nodded hopefully, and the others grudgingly agreed. Elrond bought them drinks and strolled to a table in the corner.  
  
"See? You just have to know how to deal with them." He said pointedly to Aragorn and Legolas.  
  
The two snorted. "They'll be back as soon as they've finished their drinks." Legolas predicted.  
  
Soon, however, he had all but forgotten his prophecy. The four of them were wrapped up in recounting tales of their childhoods. Aragorn was relating his first attempt at making lemonade with the help of Elrond.  
  
"I gave you direct instructions on how to do it, don't blame me!" Elrond muttered.  
  
"Directions that went totally against what the cook had just told me." Aragorn retorted. "Why can't you just make lemonade like a normal person? Why must crushed egg shells and deer meat be involved?"  
  
Legolas laughed. "Elrond! Who could've known you didn't know how to cook!"  
  
Elrond glared at the other elf. "Go play with your pet cat!" Legolas stared at him in confusion. "Go on! Go!"  
  
"Uh, I don't have a pet cat." Legolas said, frowning.  
  
"Then go find one! You said you liked cats." Elrond growled. "Maybe it'll eat you.." He muttered under his breath.  
  
"Then why don't you go get a porcupine, my lord?" Boromir slurred. He had had a bit more to drink than the other three.  
  
"Yes, it would match your personality." Aragorn muttered.  
  
"PORCUPINE?" Elrond cried.  
  
"Sing and dance, why don't you? Not enough people are looking!" Legolas hissed. The men at the counter turned to glare at the four.  
  
Their former opponents started towards them again.  
  
"Great." Aragorn groaned. "Thank you, Father. You've managed to attract their attention AGAIN!"  
  
"Again?" Elrond glared at him. "You're the one who wouldn't apologize properly!"  
  
"I said they'd be back, but would anyone listen to me? NO!" Legolas grumbled. "Just ignore the handsome elf. Never mind that he's ALWAYS RIGHT!"  
  
"Handsome?" Aragorn smirked. "That is yet another example of how you are always wrong."  
  
The three men stopped in front of the group. "You still owe us an apology."  
  
The silent one threw the first punch.  
  
________________________________________________________________________  
  
Hours later, as the two men and two elves dragged themselves back to Rivendell, Elrond smiled at his son. "All right. NOW I understand why you always get beat up." He cast a hopeful glance at Boromir. "Next Friday alright for you?" When he nodded, Elrond grinned. "Good. That was fun."  
  
Aragorn and Legolas just rolled their eyes. Elrond noticed. "Don't worry, I have plenty of bruise balm." He paused. "For me."  
  
The elf lord ran for his life as the sun crept over the horizon.  
  
The end.  
  
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Reviews? Please? 


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